[attr="class","cordeliaimg"]

[attr="class","cordeliabt1"]LOVE ME MORE.

[attr="class","cordeliasimg"]

[attr="class","cordeliabt2"]PROVE ME RIGHT.

[attr="class","cordeliaf2"]Like a child’s tantrum, the man unleashes a barrage of words that convey nothing except his unfocused anger. Cordelia has seen this many times - in official meetings, debates over property, and dinner tables. The scene is reminiscent of the one time a young nobleman from another branch family had berated her. The entitled brat had believed Cordelia’s family estate to belong to him and thus displayed very obnoxious displays of that attitude. Of course, his pride and loud voice were no match for ancestral law and evidence on written paper.

What about this case? Was it pride? Cordelia looks on with her peeved expression still. Naturally with her status and lineage, she had been insulted many times before. This uncomposed tirade - she would not take it to heart, let alone her skin. ”How crude,” she says, momentarily turning her face to look over at the shampoo bottle that had been flung to the other side of the aisle. She unfolds her arms, inspects the nails on her left hand for a bit, and turns back to the shelf to pick up another bottle of the same variety. The only way to win against children like this, as she had learned from experience, is to let them implode. Furthermore, she was here to shop, not to argue with some wretch. Such matters are beneath her - but still, from experience, she has a feeling it won’t end there.

Holding the ovoid bottle in her hand, she inspects it again. Her face with tightened brows turns to the man again, eyes raised, as if wondering why he was still standing there. Disregarding him, she turns her gaze back to the label of the bottle and its ingredients.

---

Notes:
yuuki Hashimoto

[attr="class","cordeliacf2"][break]

level

1

stats

POWER 20 d
DEFENSE 20 d
SPEED 20 d
MAGIC 20 d
VITALITY 20 d
WILLPOWER 20 d
LUCK 0 F
[break]

stacks

n/a 0
[break]

abilities

off with their head
cooldown 0/3

items

- draconic leatherplate armor
- unnamed claymore

[attr="class","cordeliaimg"]

[attr="class","cordeliabt1"]LOVE ME MORE.

[attr="class","cordeliasimg"]

[attr="class","cordeliabt2"]PROVE ME RIGHT.

[attr="class","cordeliaf2"]It was harder to find a shop resembling one from before the world changed than she had expected. Cordelia’s first trip to Unison Central - she had been attracted by the prospect of items and equipment available to purchase. Every road she walked by had been flooded by players not unlike her searching for weapons to bring on their next expedition or mission. That ever-present surge in demand was understandable - as people got stronger, it was only natural to want better gear to suit that growth. To supply for that, nearly every building visible is stocked to the brim with adventuring gear, or advertising some form of service to bolster a player’s skills or readiness for exploration. For her, though, the purpose of this trip to the area was different. Something else carries much more priority than those redundant objects like swords and armor: self-care products.

Not many would expect to be disappointed when coming to an area so densely populated with anything one could ever seek the opportunity to buy. Cordelia, though, couldn’t be less happy. Where are the department stores? Where are the pharmacies? Where are the supermarkets? It takes a bit more walking to leave the central area where the bulk of the crowd loiters, and only then does she spot it: a quaint medium-sized store at the end of a split-off street. A giant sign, presumably hosting the name of the establishment, hovers above the cottage-like building, bobbing up and down in the air gently: “Goods Galore!” and in smaller font, “For your everyday needs.”

She enters, and the change in atmosphere catches her by surprise. A bubbling cauldron stirs itself near the register. The scent of pine matches the dark wood that makes up the store, luring her into each aisle. She silently hopes that she can find what she is looking for - just high-end shampoo for her terribly out of shape hair. She hasn’t been taking care of it as well as she had been doing before. The missions and this rotten system are to blame. She heads towards what she assumes is the self-care section, ominously labeled “Witches’ Brew and Balm”. Since there seem to be no other similar places in the vicinity, this eerie shop would have to suffice.

---

Notes:
yuuki Hashimoto

[attr="class","cordeliacf2"][break]

level

1

stats

POWER 20 d
DEFENSE 20 d
SPEED 20 d
MAGIC 20 d
VITALITY 20 d
WILLPOWER 20 d
LUCK 0 F
[break]

stacks

n/a 0
[break]

abilities

off with their head
cooldown 0/3

items

- draconic leatherplate armor
- unnamed claymore

[attr="class","cordeliaimg"]

[attr="class","cordeliabt1"]LOVE ME MORE.

[attr="class","cordeliasimg"]

[attr="class","cordeliabt2"]PROVE ME RIGHT.

[attr="class","cordeliaf2"]Menial labor isn’t something Cordelia is used to doing. In fact, the only thing she did in her previous life was the opposite. Her days of sitting idle in her chambers are over - she had not expected the day to ever come where she’d have to be doing her own work. Yet, here she is. The mission required her to retrieve ore from deposits and deliver them back to the requester via the system. It did not seem too difficult a task, but now that she is standing in front of a cave, it starts to look a bit daunting.

The opening to the cave is wide, but it narrows very quickly. She customarily waits in front to see if any others would choose to take on the mission as well. That, and she knew the system could act on any whim it desired - someone to watch her back in the dark would be beneficial. She notices a notification from the system: a temporary [pickaxe] item had been added to her inventory. Equipping it, she realizes that it does not suit her hands at all. The only thing she would wield is her claymore, despite its unsuitability for the task at hand. It was sturdy - probably sturdy enough to mine some ore. The pickaxe is dismissed and sent back to the inventory, and her claymore appears in its stead, fitting firmly in her hands, as if the grip was molded perfectly for her to hold.

---

Notes:
Clyde and Aleya

[attr="class","cordeliacf2"][break]

level

1

stats

POWER 20 d
DEFENSE 20 d
SPEED 20 d
MAGIC 20 d
VITALITY 20 d
WILLPOWER 20 d
LUCK 0 F
[break]

stacks

n/a 0
[break]

abilities

off with their head
cooldown 0/3

items

- draconic leatherplate armor
- unnamed claymore

[attr="class","cordeliaimg"]

[attr="class","cordeliabt1"]LOVE ME MORE.

[attr="class","cordeliasimg"]

[attr="class","cordeliabt2"]PROVE ME RIGHT.

[attr="class","cordeliaf2"]Something in the air shifts and Cordelia can feel it - The man must not be used to feeling vulnerable. She has the upper hand right now, and she knows it. Any slight trace of emotion on his face is worthless now in the face of justice. Although she does not know the whole story yet, she is sure there is more to be uncovered: the act of believing in one’s faith is not a deterrent to sin and lies. If anything, it is an excuse. The High Priestess clearly would have more to say on that matter - if only Cordelia got the chance to convene with her as well, everything would reveal itself neatly. But alas, they stood on opposite sides of the coin.

Just as she opens her mouth ready to respond to Zenith’s fit, he is interrupted by another from his parade. His rising irritation - at least that’s what that expression in his face was - seems to dissipate, replaced by a subdued stare. As he gives the ultimatum, Cordelia resists the change coming to her own face - she can barely hold her smile as he has no other choice but to relay the terms of his Pope. His own grin surely was just a facade. The only part that catches her off-guard is the threat to her own head. They seem to have not yet ruled out the possibility of the King’s men smuggling the Duke out to keep him safe. But if they really were listening, they’d know all Cordelia wants is a fair trial. Either they lacked trust in her spoken conviction, or something much more grim is at hand.

”I agree,” she responds, tone of voice showing not much more than duty required, ”Have the copies of the letters delivered by sundown.” She looks down at the kneeling Duke Romeo, his head parallel to the ground. If any truth was to be extracted, it was going to be from the husk of a broken man.

---

”Who is the High Priestess to you?” Cordelia asks directly, arms crossed. She had only been let into the Duke’s temporary chambers now. The letters arrived exactly at sundown, as if to delay her investigation for as long as possible. Looking at them again in a clearer headspace without the pressure of the surrounding onlookers, though, her suspicions are confirmed: High Priestess Juliet, whether by good intention or love, encrypted messages into the letters she had sent to the duke. Upon being given entry by the two guards, armed with swords that seem to have never been used, Cordelia wanted to begin the questioning immediately. However, that plan had to change. She is no longer looking at the Duke Romeo that was so dignified in her implanted memories - instead, she is looking at a soulless man. He isn’t crying - he is way past that. His eyes are aimless, the usual glow replaced by a dark, clutching void.

It takes a long time for him to answer, in addition to the time she waited to interrogate him as well. ”Love…” he says, the word trailing off like the nostalgia a heartbreak brings. Cordelia leaves it in the air, pulling a chair out and taking a seat by the candlelight. After realizing he would not be saying anything more despite his hanging mouth, she asks further: “In your letters you said you shared a kiss - did you make that up?” For the first time since the door opened Romeo turns his face up so that his eyes meet hers. His face is dark and callous, as if no longer interested in life itself. “No… We did kiss…” Like the words of a rambling drunk, they are slurred, and Cordelia could not tell if there was too much on his mind or nothing left at all.

Although there is barely any conversation being done, Cordelia knows from the exchanged letters that these two must have had some kind of relationship - one that could be called intimate. However, there is a sudden shift in Juliet’s tone in between one pair of letters - as if someone found something out. Someone was monitoring the letters, as was hinted in the most recent delivery.

”If you want this to turn out right, for both you and her, you will talk to me.” Cordelia orders, starting to lose her patience. She taps her finger on the nightstand beside her. Of course, this evokes no response from the Duke. His unwillingness to cooperate was going to be the downfall of both of them.

---

Notes:
Zenith of Eidos

[attr="class","cordeliacf2"][break]

level

1

stats

POWER 20 d
DEFENSE 20 d
SPEED 20 d
MAGIC 20 d
VITALITY 20 d
WILLPOWER 20 d
LUCK 0 F
[break]

stacks

n/a 0
[break]

abilities

off with their head
cooldown 0/3

items

- draconic leatherplate armor
- unnamed claymore

[attr="class","cordeliaimg"]

[attr="class","cordeliabt1"]LOVE ME MORE.

[attr="class","cordeliasimg"]

[attr="class","cordeliabt2"]PROVE ME RIGHT.

[attr="class","cordeliaf2"]Another marker from the kitchen starts blinking haphazardly, beckoning Cordelia’s attention. Fortunately, she was already headed there. After handing the note to the staff inside again, she heads to the counter that the marker is pointing to. There are two dishes, without a tray this time. The smaller of the two is just like the dish she had seen earlier - she assumes it is the pine slime potato. The other dish is larger, with giant chunks of what seem to be fish mixed in with some vegetables. Its most eye-catching element, however, was the fluorescent blue gel-like liquid spread all across it. She turns her head back up, trying not to show her disgust. The attempt fails, however, as her eyes narrow and her nose tries to shrink all the way back into her face.

Correcting her expression, she turns back up to see where she is supposed to deliver the food to. To her slight surprise, it is the same table with the man she took the order from beforehand. It seems the dish she was holding was the mountain salmon stir-fry with troll tear sauce. She gently - or as gently as she is capable of - places the dishes in front of the customer, side by side. Forcing a smile again, she leaves to go to the next marker.

This process repeats for a while - and she is starting to get used to it. She gets remarkably faster at bringing plates to tables and writing down orders. Subconsciously, she isn’t even using the markers anymore. Who knew a snob like Cordelia could excel in the service industry? The only problem was her twisted face - it seems like every customer she interacts with is always on the verge of tears. But the old man wasn’t on her case anymore, which meant she must be doing most things right.

---

Notes:

[attr="class","cordeliacf2"][break]

level

1

stats

POWER 20 d
DEFENSE 20 d
SPEED 20 d
MAGIC 20 d
VITALITY 20 d
WILLPOWER 20 d
LUCK 0 F
[break]

stacks

n/a 0
[break]

abilities

off with their head
cooldown 0/3

items

- draconic leatherplate armor
- unnamed claymore

[attr="class","cordeliaimg"]

[attr="class","cordeliabt1"]LOVE ME MORE.

[attr="class","cordeliasimg"]

[attr="class","cordeliabt2"]PROVE ME RIGHT.

[attr="class","cordeliaf2"]She sighs as she lifts the tray and turns around. A new marker is highlighted, which she promptly makes her way to with a bothered look on her face. Upon arriving at the table, she is met with a family of three - a mother, a father and a boy no older than ten. To think that they must have all survived their tutorial came as a reality check to her. Almost slamming the tray down on the table, as if embarrassed to be doing this job, she scornfully says “Take it.” This leaves a bewildered expression on the parents - the child is just happy to have his food arrive. Without even handing the plates out to each person, Cordelia walks towards the next closest marker.

As she reaches the next table, a pen and notebook materialize in her hands. The current page of the notebook already has the table number marked on it. The system sure likes to make everything obvious - except the things that actually mattered to her, like the false memories plaguing her mind. Or why she had this irrational hatred for dragons instilled in her. The middle-aged man at the table is flipping through the menu, struggling to come to a decision. To aid him, Cordelia adds a quick ”What do you want?”. He looks up towards her, pressured by the Heartless Princess’ arrogant stare. ”Um… I’ll take the mountain salmon stir-fry with troll tear sauce, and one pine slime potato please,” he responds with fear. Mountain what with what? Whatever. These people don’t know food anyway. And the pine slime potato must have been the dish on the other table’s tray. What kind of restaurant was this, that had people eating monster parts? She writes whatever she could recall on her notebook, refusing to ask the customer to speak once more. With a swift turn, she walks to the kitchen window signified by a new marker to hand in the note to the cooks inside.

This was an easy job - the system was basically doing it all for her. It beats having to expend all her energy to slay some monster that does not even matter. At least, that is what she thought. She continues to the next table, her notebook automatically inking the table number at the top of the page once again.

---

Notes:

[attr="class","cordeliacf2"][break]

level

1

stats

POWER 20 d
DEFENSE 20 d
SPEED 20 d
MAGIC 20 d
VITALITY 20 d
WILLPOWER 20 d
LUCK 0 F
[break]

stacks

n/a 0
[break]

abilities

off with their head
cooldown 0/3

items

- draconic leatherplate armor
- unnamed claymore